


His Favorite Flower

by Katie_Flint



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Chocolate Syrup, F/M, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Shower Sex, Valentine's Day, tired neville
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-25 00:08:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9793748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katie_Flint/pseuds/Katie_Flint
Summary: After a successful and highly enjoyable Valentine's Day, Neville and Pansy decide it's time for a shower..





	

**Author's Note:**

> I meant to write Marcus/Katie this week but then these two decided to show up instead ugh. Anyhow, enjoy this lol. Finally got a decent R rating in here and maybe also a bit of suggestive other play ;)

  
“Neville,” Pansy calls sweetly.   
  
Neville shudders, he’s had enough sweetness for the day, especially from her. Following the whim of her curling finger, he climbs into the shower behind her. There’s no need to shed his clothes, because they’ve both been naked for hours.   
  
“ _Pansy_ ,” Neville groans when she leans forward to grip his cock. She looks up at him cheekily, knowing full well that he’s just been spent, by her hand no less.   
  
Neville’s fingers burrow into her chocolaty brown locks, pulling her against his chest, trapping her there. His breath is hot and tired, and he uses his free hand to start the shower behind her. They’re both a mess and his free hand slides unnaturally smoothly down her side.    
  
Normally, Pansy would be furious that he’d put his unwashed hands in her hair. Neville supposes she doesn’t have much reason to mind this time though, as they’re about to engage in some washing of their own. Pansy’s tired too, he also reasons, because she doesn’t even seem to care when he twists her hair, bringing her lips torturously close to his.   
  
“Haven’t you had enough yet?” He asks, unable to resist toying with his personal temptress. It’s a rotten game really, but ever since they discovered it, they’ve not been able to stop playing with one and other.   
  
“Of you?” Pansy smiles, letting the lightest breath slither past her curling lips, “Never.”   
  
Neville bites his own lip as the air hits him, warm but cooler than the steam rising about them. He twitches, but he knows he’s not ready to go again.   
  
Looking into those impassioned green irises, Neville knows he’ll deny her nothing, even tired as he is.   
  
“Wash up,” Neville instructs, grabbing the cloth hanging behind her rear and thrusting it between them. Pansy opens her mouth, but before sound comes out, Neville’s already lowering himself onto his knees.   
  
He looks up at her, transfixed in her gaze as he spreads her thighs wide. The showerhead’s droplets don’t hit him directly, but rather they bounce teasingly off her shoulders. Neville ignores the way they splatter against his face.   
  
Pansy’s eyes are dark, darker than the chocolate covering their bodies and she slides the cloth obediently down her stomach. Neville would love to watch, but there’s another show he’s equally eager to see.   
  
Dipping his fingers between her thighs, Neville weaves them between her curls, finding the garden he’s looking for. A single flower, so often admired and from so many angles, it’s by far Neville’s favorite to tend. To cause it to bloom has become his obsession. And like any good gardener, he always attends to its every need.   
  
A moan grips Pansy and she leans back, finding the wall to brace herself. Neville watches with a certain glee as the water now falls freely onto her breasts, coursing down them like a waterfall. She looks a goddess like this, caught in the beginning throws of her ecstasy.   
  
“Happy Valentine’s love,” His fingers curl knowingly.


End file.
